


all was golden in the sky

by intearsaboutrobots



Category: Friends At The Table
Genre: Angst, Depression, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Mostly Canon Compliant, Other, Queerplatonic relationship, could be read romantic if you want, hand-holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 16:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17645942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intearsaboutrobots/pseuds/intearsaboutrobots
Summary: four vignettes between fourteen fifteen and tender skyWritten for Secret Samol 2018 !





	all was golden in the sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MadHattie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadHattie/gifts).



* * *

Tender hummed lightly under her breath as she filled her tray with dirty glasses. Good had gone home already and his music had left with him, so the only sound was the clinking of glasses. Sanitising the night’s dishes was no one’s favourite part of running a bar, but Tender found the ritual reassuring. 

Mumbling a half-remembered chorus under her breath, she set down the tray and picked up the first glass. She was polishing a tall glass swirled with pink when the entrance chime sounded.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” Tender called. Her brow furrowed and she added, looking up, “How did you get in here anywa-”

A silhouette stood in the doorway, wide hat perched on their head. They started to nod in greeting, but aborted the motion halfway through to take their off their hat. Sheepishly, they nodded again and stepped into the bar proper.

“I hope I’m not intruding, ma’am.”

Tender’s eyes widened. She had last seen Fourteen when they had commed into Cascara to inform her of when they’d be arriving back at the ship after their death. Tender had found it hard to look at the stranger speaking familiar words, but she recognised them immediately. 

She’d recognised the hat, but they’d found a suit to go with it somewhere, and a bolo tie hung loose and uneven around their neck. They nervously fidgeted with the rim of their hat.

Tender realised she’d been staring instead of responding and gestured towards one of the stools at the bar. “It’s fine. Have a seat and I’ll grab you a drink.”

The routine of mixing one of the night’s specials gave her something to do with her hands and it was easier to talk when she wasn’t looking at them. Scooping ice, she said, “And don’t call me ‘ma’am’. If you’re still the Fourteen who died, you’re still my teammate. I’m not about to start calling you ‘Mx. Fifteen’ just because you’re balding now.”

“I’m not exactly the same person,” Fourteen said, then hastily added, “But it’s much appreciated. Tender.”

Tender snorted. “You’re the one who got us out of there, shouldn’t I be thanking you? Or the you that saved me.” She shook her head, curls bouncing. “This is very confusing.”

Fourteen’s grizzled face cracked in a genuine smile. Tender saw a dizzying echo of the kid they had known as Fourteen, cracking up at a bad pun. 

“You’re telling me.”

Tender shook her disorientation, forcing herself back into the moment. She slid the drink across the bar, the tall glass changing smoothly from purple at the bottom to a bright orange at the top and fizzing enthusiastically. Fourteen wrapped their hands around it, not drinking, just drawing patterns in the condensation. They were clearly struggling to put something to words, so Tender returned to putting away glasses, allowing them a little space. 

She made it through three before she was out of patience. She set the glass in her hands down with a clink and turned back to Fourteen. 

“What are you doing here?” Their eyes widened defensively as she bulldozed forwards. “You died, which is really weird obviously, but why are you here in my bar?”

Fourteen traced a last curlicue on their glass before purposefully pulling their hands away, flattening them to the bar. They looked directly at Tender for the first time since they’d come in.

“On that mission, the last I saw of you was - well. you were in a bad spot. I did what I could to get you out, of course, and apparently it worked, but I can’t stop thinking - I just. Needed to make sure you were alright.”

Tender laughed. She couldn’t help it, although Fourteen’s injured expression prompted her to bring herself back under control. She waved an apologetic hand as she forced down a smile.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just that the last time I saw you, you were pinned down by a lot of people with a lot of guns,  _ dying _ . And then you show up because you were worried about  _ me _ .” Tender squeezed her eyes shut, taking a breath. “Is this some part of your whole thing? Some kind of unfinished business left from your last you? Once you check me off your list of ‘people I died to save’ you must be off to find ⸢Signet⸣, right?”

Fourteen blinked, something hurt in their eyes.

“I’m sorry I worried you, Tender, but I promise, I’m always fine.” They sipped their drink and said, mostly into their glass, “... And I’m not going to ⸢Signet⸣. It was just you.”

Tender’s tail swishedd slowly side to side as she took in Fourteen’s words. This was - well, she wasn’t sure what it was. Not what she expected, that was certain. The two had barely spoken outside the Beloved before, what had she done to earn - this? She almost wanted to ask, but - well. She wasn’t exactly in a safe line of work, not to mention the enemies she’d made with Open. If Fourteen was volunteering themself as some kind of free bodyguard, she couldn’t afford to talk herself out of it.

Stuffing down her curiosity, she reached across the bar and cinched the slide of Fourteen’s bolo tie up to their collar. Their stubble prickled her skin where she brushed against their neck and she felt the motion of their throat as they swallowed nervously. Tender didn’t pull back right away, lingering to even out the ends of the cord a little longer than necessary before pulling back.

“I’m fine, Fourteen. And it’s the least I can do for the person who saved me to make sure they look put together in their new body.” She huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Not sure I’ll ever get used to saying that.”

Fourteen laughed too, a little nervously, and took a last mouthful of their drink before standing. “You really don’t owe me anything, Tender.”

Tender smiled thoughtfully as Fourteen logged out of the Steady. 

_ But what do you owe me? _ _ _

* * *

“So! What did you think?”

Tender jumped a little in her cozy corner booth, ears flicking back. Fourteen stood above her, their head cocked and wearing a smile that just about hid the tiredness in the corners of their eyes. Their dress flickered in blues and greens, displaying an ad for their next show. Despite having been singing under hot stage lights only an hour ago, they looked completely put together. Tender scrambled for a smile. 

“It was great!  _ You _ were great. I had so much fun.”

Tender felt her words fall flat and just hoped Fourteen couldn’t hear it. It wasn’t even that the show hadn’t been great, or that she hadn’t been impressed. She was just having trouble summoning enthusiasm for much of anything lately. This was the first time in days that she’d even made plans outside her apartment, and she already felt herself dragging.  _ Come on _ , she told herself sternly.  _ You’re here, at a nice restaurant with your nice friend. You’ll have a nice time if it kills you. _

If Fourteen noticed her lack of energy, they didn’t comment, taking a seat and ordering both of them a drink. They smiled as they told Tender how nice it was to see someone from the Beloved, rolled their eyes self-deprecatingly as they complained about how tiring the life of a kei idol was. 

Tender nodded along, only half-listening despite her best efforts. She knew she should be responding more -  _ Fourteen is busy in their new body and they still made time for you _ \- but she simply couldn’t find the energy. It was all she could do to nod and laugh in the right places as she stared down into her drink, stirring the ice first one way and then another, but even that felt claustrophobically fake. 

The clinking as the ice bumped against the glass reverberated in her ears. Tender was seized by the impulse to reach in and take a piece. Squeeze it in her hand until the cold resonated through her bones. Until she felt something real.

A warm hand touched hers.

Tender startled and looked up, right into concerned brown eyes.

“Tender, dear, are you alright? You haven’t seemed quite yourself all night.”

In that moment, Tender was struck by Fourteen’s perfection like a blow. They were all soft hands, artfully tousled hair, even the fabric of their dress almost floated around their legs because it wouldn’t dare do anything else. 

This close to someone so bright, Tender was thrown into sharp contrast. She was hyperaware of the cigarette smoke settled in the cracks of her skin, the places she’d bitten her nails to the quick, the frizzy mess her hair had become. Before she could consider it, she had snatched her hand back as if burned. Fourteen’s eyes widened, a look of hurt flickered across their face for a fraction of a second before it smoothed. 

Tender kicked herself. God, what was wrong with her, she couldn’t even spend time with her friends right. In an effort to break the tension she forced a laugh, although it sounded insincere to her ears. 

“I’m fine. I’ve just been… I’m just tired.” She shoved her guilt down and pulled her face into a smile. “I promise.”

The look of concern didn’t leave Fourteen’s face but they didn’t push. Tender was eternally grateful.

The night didn’t last much longer. Fourteen apologised as they quickly finished their drink, explaining that they still had preparation to do for their next show (“and some ‘freelance’ work,” they confided with an impeccable wink). 

Tender lingered at the table long after Fourteen had gone, sipping at the dregs of her drink.

Two days later, she was again in line to see another of Fourteen’s concerts. She was thoroughly disguised. It was probably more than necessary, but even with stage lights blinding them, she couldn’t help but picture Fourteen spotting her, all the questions they’d have.  _ Why are you here in secret, I could have just given you a ticket, Tender talk to me is something wrong _ . 

Tender was not prepared to answer any of those. She couldn’t even verbalise to herself why she needed to see how Fourteen acted without her, whether they were different. Happier. The whole night she stood, silent and still, among the crowds of excited fans, scrutinising Fourteen’s performance. It was… the same show she’d seen before. Their smile, their laugh, the talking between songs, it was all as happy and seemed just as genuine as they had been with her.

She was packed into the same crowded concert hall next week, waiting for Fourteen to come onstage.  _ You just want to support your friend _ , she told herself.  _ And you’ve been working on the chuch for weeks, you deserve a little time off. Maybe you’ll even meet up with them afterwards, get another drink. _

She knew she wouldn’t. She was a terrible liar.

* * *

The hotel room was quiet. 

Wind’s Poem was fitfully sleeping on the single bed, and Fourteen was making yet another loop of the perimeter. Tender watched as they peered carefully out the windows and checked the door. Her tail curled around her waist and she worried at the fur on the tip.  She and Fourteen had been dancing around the elephant in the room for hours. The tension was starting to fray her nerves. 

That, and she had run out of comfortable ways to sit half an hour ago. She stretched, twisting one way and the other, futilely trying to unknot her muscles. Fourteen looked over as they finished their circuit and huffed a small amused breath. 

“Stake outs are definitely a practiced skill.” They settled on a cushion opposite her, crossing their legs neatly. They wrinkled their nose and recrossed them the other way. “And this body apparently still needs to practice.” 

Tender looked at them as they rubbed the thick fabric of their suit absently between two fingers, and felt anger rise in her chest. She understood why they were upset with her, but this silent treatment was immature. Before she could bite them back, she heard the fiery words leaving her mouth.

“I know you’re mad, but just sa-”

“I have to tell you somethi-”

Their voices overlapped and they cut themselves off simultaneously. Fourteen looked up from their sleeve, surprise written clearly on their features.

“Mad? No, that’s not - well, I am a little mad, that’s true, but that’s -” They squeezed their eyes shut, pinching the bridge of their nose. “Tender. We’re trying to avert a prophecy, your ex-girlfriend could kill us at any moment -”

“She won’t!” Tender interrupted. “She wouldn’t do something like that.”

Fourteen’s mouth twisted uncomfortably, but they continued over her, nervously rocking a little in place now. 

“The point is that we are under a threat of imminent death, and there is something I should tell you. The last time I died, I found - well, I found out a lot. I came back with these, for one.” They gestured to the nubby horns poking through their hair. 

“It turned out there were many things I didn’t know about Castlerose, and some of them I don’t think I’d ever known, although I can’t actually know that for sure since I’ve forgotten a lot of important things, and - ” They paused, inhaled, before plunging forwards.

“Some of the things were very big, like that my agency made their Fleet assassins by - well.” Fourteen’s face scrunched in distaste and they snipped two fingers at their own horns. Tender’s stomach twisted in horror as Fourteen continued, speaking more quickly now.

“There were so many bodies around me when I woke up, and for the first time I can remember, I understood the sort of people I’ve been working for. People who do whatever they need to in order to get ahead.”

There was silence for a moment as Fourteen nervously chewed a knuckle. Tender let the quiet sit for a moment before leaning closer, speaking softly. “Fourteen, I’m. I’m sorry, that’s a super fucked-up thing to discover. Those people have done monstrous things, I can’t imagine what it was like -”

“You’re missing the point, Tender!”

Fourteen’s words burst out too loud, louder than they had intended. Across the room, Poem shifted in her sleep. Tender sucked in a breath, freezing. A few feet away, Fourteen did the same, twin deer in the headlights. The seconds ticked by until Poem sighed, uncurling a little and settling. Fourteen exhaled heavily through their nose and turned back to Tender. When they spoke, they were very consciously keeping their voice low and tone measured.

“The point is not that I quit a fucked-up job. The point is that I  _ signed up _ for that fucked-up job. Castlerose was never good, there was never any real pretense. They’ve always been exactly what they are now: people who kill to get ahead. It’s not a revelation, it was my job description, my whole life for I don’t know how many years.” 

Fourteen rubbed their forehead, looking more tired than Tender had ever seen them. “I am not a good person, Tender. I can’t know why the Fourteen Fifteen that joined Castlerose did, how they justified it to themself, but forgetting doesn’t make me innocent. I need to take responsibility, own up to  the actions of my past selves, and, Tender, I have to tell you, my last assignmen- ”

Tender’s comm jingled. 

She glanced at it and saw Open’s icon staring up at her. Looking back up, she saw that Fourteen’s eyes had followed her gaze. She sighed and leaned towards them. 

“Fourteen… You know I need to talk to Open.” They started to argue, but she pressed on. 

“You’re worried about making amends for bad shit you did before, I get that.” She laughed a little. “In another life, Open and I were going to commit heresy to become a god. Now, we’re getting drinks and I’m going to talk her out of killing the cool scientist whose tech I stole. Life is unpredictable, and really weird, and things change. Who cares who you were when you joined Castlerose? What matters now is what you do now.”

Fourteen searched her face. “Do you really believe that?”

Tender felt her comm chime again and gave Fourteen an apologetic look. 

“I really do. Look, I have to take care of this, are you going to be okay?”

Fourteen stared for a moment, examining her expression. They must have found what they were looking for because they exhaled slowly and squeezed her hand. “Sure. Yes. I’ll be fine. Just… be careful, alright?”

Tender pushed herself up on sore legs, and gave them a grin more confident than she felt. “Always.”

* * *

A setting sun painted the sky in rich shades of purple and orange. It set the field on fire, lighting each blade of grass and dandelion with a golden glow. Tender set down her wicker basket and took in the view through round sunglasses.

“Some of your best work.”

Tender smiled as she turned towards the voice behind her. 

“There you are! I was starting to worry.” 

Fourteen lifted their visor as they drew near.  “I’m sorry, this new case is taking every spare second. The opposition has us so tangled in red tape that we can’t take a single step towards the actual issue without filling out a form. Or twenty.”

Tender groaned in sympathy, pulling a blanket knit of rough blue silk out of the basket and laying it out on the grass. Turning, she sat down with an oof, laying back on the blanket. Fourteen folded themself down with grace belying their size, arranging themself on the blanket beside her with economic motion. Tender flopped back down.

“So,” she prompted, “tell me more about that new case?”

Fourteen began to explain the intricate knot of regulations they were currently untangling. Tender listened attentively although she understood maybe every third word, less when they started to get into the gritty details of the legal codes. She could feel Fourteen’s excitement though, see it in their increasingly energetic gesturing. For all they complained, they loved their work, and she knew next time they met she was sure to hear them rhapsodise about the elegant loophole they’d found that made everything click into place. Then she remembered, her mouth drawing into an ‘o’.

“I almost forgot! The Feast of Patina’s coming up, have you been invited yet?”

Fourteen looked over at her, eyebrows raising. “It had entirely slipped my mind. Who’s hosting this year?”

“Echo’s family. With all the students they’ve invited, we might actually hit three hundred.” Tender grinned at the prospect, but looking at Fourteen her smile wilted. Their shoulders were hunched, and they avoided her gaze. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s… hard to say. I just -” they ran their fingers through the grass, watching it bend as their hand passed through it. 

“I’ve lived for a very long time, Tender. I’ve forgotten more lives than most people could dream of, and they were the short lives of an assassin, but they were also the lives of people.” They looked up at her, fingers resting in the grass. “The one who liked those mango drinks. They had purple hair and they listened to old music and drank mango sliders with no tonic, and they died.”

Something icy cold started to spread its fingers through Tender’s chest as Fourteen continued. 

“Now I have no lives left but this one, and that finality is strange. And perhaps it is just that new sensation, but I feel that this Feast will be my last one.”

The icy fingers were clutched around her heart now. Tender opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again, this time finding words. 

“Fourteen, I. That’s not true, of course you have longer. We can help you, we can find what’s broken or wrong or - we’ll find a way to stop this.”

Fourteen shook their head, setting their heavy hand carefully over hers where it lay between them. 

“There is nothing to fix, Tender. Just a feeling. But even if I am wrong about this - I will die some day. Before the rest of the Notion. Before you.” They looked up into the sunset, the sky above them fading to a dark purple. 

“I am sorry to tell you this. To me, it has been this way for most of my life, almost as long as I can remember, but for you it is new and I know it hurts you.” They gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I have not had to do this before. There was no one who mourned the Fourteen with purple hair and loud music. It has never been like this, and I do not know how to help.”

Tender felt her throat tight, breathing strained. Slowly, she turned her hand over under theirs, Fourteen obligingly allowing themself to be moved. She threaded their fingers together, hoping Fourteen felt in that careful gesture everything unsaid between them.

“You could stay?”

It slipped out before she could think about it. Fourteen’s brows furrowed, and Tender plunged onward before they could respond, gaining momentum. 

“Here, in the Splice. You’ve lived lifetimes before, why stop now?” She gestured expansively to the view above them. 

“You would never have to have a last drink, or a last sunset. Stay here, Fourteen.” She heard tears in her voice and hated them as she added softly, “With me.”

Tender kept her gaze focused up at the sky, not acknowledging the wetness gathering in her eyes, so she heard rather than saw as Fourteen propped themself up on one elbow. A metal hand cupped her cheek, gently wiping away a tear that had escaped her eye. She knew what they were going to say before they said it. “Tender, I wish I could.”

“But you  _ can _ ! You  _ could _ live here forever, you’re just  _ choosing _ not to! It’s  _ selfish _ !” Tender knew she sounded desperate, pleading, but she couldn’t stop herself. Fourteen’s jewelled gaze was steady and unreadable on hers. Tears were dripping down her cheeks now, and she blinked furiously to keep from breaking into sobs. 

When Fourteen spoke, their voice was soft.

“I can’t, Tender.” 

Tender opened her mouth to respond, but they continued gently before she could. “I have a life. It is a good life, and some day it will end. It could never be another way, and for that I am sorry.”

Tender sniffed. She blinked hard, and with an effort pulled the corners of her mouth up into something like a smile. 

“Okay.”

Fourteen didn’t look convinced, worried hand still resting on her cheek. Tender nodded decisively, as much to convince herself as to convince them. “I might not understand this - I definitely don’t understand it - but that’s not your problem. We’re going to the Feast together, right? So we make it the best one yet. If it is a finale, you deserve a spectacular one.”

Fourteen’s shoulders softened. They turned and sat back again to look up at the sky, their arm pressing against her shoulder.

“Thank you, Tender. For this and for - for everything.”

Then Fourteen shifted, pushing themself up. 

“I suspect I’ve ruined your evening enough for one day. I should go.”

They made to stand, but Tender tugged on the hand still entwined with hers. Fourteen looked back, surprised. 

“I know you can’t stay forever, but. That doesn’t mean you have to leave now, does it? You could keep me company a little longer, while the sun sets.” She laughed, nervousness fluttering in her stomach. “I made it for us, after all.”

Fourteen’s expression was unreadable, but Tender felt their mechanical fingers gently squeeze hers as they lay back to watch the last of the colours fade from the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> oh jeez this was a whole journey to write, and i'm so happy you all get to see it at last! 
> 
> first up, thanks to MadHattie for this truly superb prompt. i was vibrating with excitement as soon as i saw it because like, body-swapping! robots in there at the end! nebulously gay stuff! that's all the best stuff! (and it was also a great excuse to hop around through twilight mirage again - shoutout to my coworkers for putting up with me listening to futura free on 1.5x speed at the front desk and taking notes). 
> 
> I tried to stay as close to canon as I could, and for most of these they could just be missing scenes between episodes, but... I couldn't resist the call of the milk arc. apologies for trampling on the good work of the table friends there, but also Please sign my petition its called "Let The Body Politic Stim" and it is objectively right
> 
> the title is from [when the day met the night](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wPPJQNy7bdI) by panic! at the disco, a song that fits this fic shockingly well? like way more than i expected, considering i figured this out like a day and a half ago. i was debating posting this in chapters and the titles i had figured out were:
> 
>   * the gunslinger - under the green umbrella trees
>   * worthy of grace - but her eyes saved his life
>   * carcanet's ironclad - in the middle of summer
> 

> 
> in the end they weren't quite independent enough to stand on their own but i still really like these titles so there ya go.
> 
> if after these long-ass notes you want More Content from me, or to yell about _**Letting The Body Politic Stim**_ , you can find me on [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/intearsaboutrobots) or on my [fatt tumblr](https://nevertrustasword.tumblr.com/) !


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